intelligent, and religious heads, where the workers certainly are better off in regard to the means of domestic comfort and education than the same number of working people out of the factory system in any part of England, As yet, however, such privileged places are few; and the "captains of industry the rich mill-owners-too little regard their duty, in respect to the people they employ. The great towns-London, Liverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, Leeds, and others all remarkably exhibit the progress of the middle classes in freedom of thought and in political power. How different the time, when the great lord or priest ruled with despotic sway! How different the time, when neither farmers nor their labourers, nor mechanics, were permitted to send their children to school without the lord's leave! How different the time, when the whole of a town, or assembly of workpeople, were viewed as the lord's vassals!when no commoner dreamed of having a voice in the making of his country's laws, nor in the regulation of his country's government and public affairs! Now, the middle car gnol odt at bevorg test volereg aids to 1 I love thee, Christmas, for I joy to hear iw sbsit 155 Expand the heart, and love triumphant reigns! 69W Or dear one far away in distant climes- 19129do I dare guin Puzzle the boys, and spread around delight, ad is boot od 1 boodTuoenten eli bas 19teads Now, sir, your coat is off! reds And see Your right-hand pocketed !dir Some three yards round- It must be done Keeping your right-hand in its place, DENT ENIGMAS, CHARADES, &c. boniopor to ehgul edi A VISION. Dimy classes of our great towns are the true sovereigns of England, but happily intelligent enough not only to know their own strength, but also wise enough to use it well. e We have now traced some of the great movements by which the English nation was formed, rose, and has progressed toward its present high 'position-but Aunt Mary has more to tell you-has more Pictures to Ir was on a cold frosty evening, when the wind show, especially of the national progress; whistled round the corners of the house and roared and this subject is so many-sided, so replete reading. I laid down my book, and with an indown the chimney, that I sat in my old arm-chair with interest and instruction, that she has expressible sense of comfort, gazed in the fire. no fear of your being wearied, and therefore, Gradually my mind wandered-the faces my whilst bidding you all an affectionate adieu and more ind pictured in the fire, became more this year, anticipates with pleasure a of waking dream. Methought I saw before me a re-union in 1851.4 100127909 wilderness, where the wild beast roamed free in netblins bas nemow 98089dbotnemal o the endless solitudes, and grass and weeds grew of loodos bas sinod mort yaw nweth an unrestrained where the birds built their nests in the oak and beech trees which towered above the -uten elivo jaerg bas,29izotost side mi avev rest, and feared not the encroaching hand of man. 19dto bas no ap TRIFLE eets list But an old veteran, whose hair was grey, and whose I did I bas ai 918 2990cdo body was bent by the weight of years, came byo THE PITMAN AND THE EAR-Ruwcastle, where high. When I looked again, I saw the on the waste, and waved his staff on man entering a public-house in Τ Ne, accosted him highatchs bene with the customary salutation of "Gude mornin'." The old man raised himself up, and taking from a capacious pocket a trumpet of peculiar construction, put it to his ear. The honest pitman stood, and after waiting with the most anxious expecta tion for some minutes, he exclaimed, with a dis indistinct-till at last 1 fell into a kind huge of the axeb and where once stood a giant oak, nowe stood an emigrant's hut, and several little chil dren were playing before the door. Again the staff waved-the hut had disappeared-the trees encumbered the ground no more; for in their place stood cottages, corn-fields, and ploughed dands were busy at work, some sow ing, and some appointed air" Nay man! it winna dea; thou The husband following the plough. The little canna play wi' thy lug!" children I had seen before were now grown to manhood, and tilled lands of their own. Once more the old man flourished his staff-what a change Dark was the night, damp, miserably cold, did I see: Corn-fields, cottages, husbandmen, and When a bold traveller, who had ridden far all had vanished; and their place was occupied O'er hill and dale that day, at length beheld. by a large manufacturing town. The streets reThough still at distance seen, my first's pale light. sounded with the din of carts and carriages. Bells Spurring his jaded steed, whose weary steps tolled from steeples of magnificent churches; and Told how he toil'd, my first he gladly reach'd. where once existed a swamp was now a noble edifice. Day and night the manufactories echoed My second from my first-how different! with the busy hum of labour and the song of the Through man's existence: it will raise his hopes, It forms a wild, imaginative dream artizan. But was there no alloy to this pleasur-Though fraught with dark despair, to joyous scenes: able scene? Alas! that I should record it! There was: and in the place of soberness, cleanliness, and innocence, there were drunkenness, poverty, and filth, and theft, and murder! Alas! that these crimes should pollute the tract of civilizationbut so it is. I awoke, and with the first sensations of my dream, there had gone out my fire, and the lamp was flickering and nearly extinguished; so I hurried shivering to bed. Reader, who was the old man I saw in my dream? While seeing him, I was losing him: and when I had again found him, I had lost him.-E. S. 2. At my second assembled were, To play with it as I have seen Others, whose hearts were light and gay, Again 'twill cast him to the lowest depths My whole tells of that time when mortal man, 5. My first-how rapid is its flight, Its rough and tawny skin, To millions. And wise men My whole does from my second come, My first has left. It comes from far, The little and the sick proclaim 6. Up from his couch Sir Ronald rose, 7. Oh! Alice, leave those hateful towers, My faithful steed is standing near, And waits but your reply; To bear us o'er the moon-lit shore- She gave consent, and to those towers, She bade a last adieu; They mount the steed-with fearful speed, Along the shore they flew. On flies the steed; the spurs strike deep Into his bleeding side; And oft, in fear of danger near, Now o'er my second on they dart, They little think how near the brink And now they near my fearful whole, Too late! within its depths they sink, 8. My first is what the gentler sex W. H. H. My whole is mostly seen with frown severe; Since each one hopes to be what I am now, 15. T. H. N. -31% I £ Three men, with their wives, have to cross a fiver in a boat, which holds only two at a time; no woman must be in the presence of a man, unless her husband is present, or he will be jealous; how did they manage to get across? 18. VE EXTRAORDINARY DOUBLE TRANSPOSITION. A lover begged of his mistress a proof of her sentiments towards him; she wrote on a slip of paper "THE NOVEL PROOF," bidding him change one of the consonants into a vowel, and transpose the letters into an answer. He did so, and was quitting her in despair, when she asked him by what mishap it was that her token of affection should cause him so much pain? Query. How did the lady wish the letters transposed, and how did the swain transpose them? CONUNDRUMS, &c. A. E. B. 1. WHAT was Joan of Arc made of? 3. What colour is the grass when covered with snow? 4. What dress should a lady procure to keep the 5. When is a lady not a lady? 8. Take me away from what you intended, and leave an insect. WILD FLOWERS-DECEMBER. "Love me well; I am the last of the sisterhood of months that you can love."-GILFILLAN. unfrequently, in open weather, to the commencement of the present month. Those tufts are formed by the traveller's-joy, or virgin's bower, Clematis vitalba, of which the stems extend from ten to twenty feet, and are covered in July, August, and September, with numerous sweet-scented flowers, which gradually give place Traviler's to long, feathery, and downy seeds. joie, is this same plant termed," says Gerard, "as decking and adorning waies and hedges where people travell. Virgin's bower, by reason of the goodly shadowe which they make with their thick bushing and climbing; as also for the beautie of the flowers, and the pleasant scent and savour of the same; and by country folks Old man's beards,' from the hoary appearance of the seeds which remain long on the hedges.' This favourite creeper is common in the southern and western counties, especially in calcareous soils, and thrives even among rocks and loose stones; restricted, however, to certain localities: and though growing abundantly in Gloucestershire, is rarely seen northward of Worcestershire, as remarked by Withering. The elegant profusion with which the traveller's-joy ascends lofty trees, and even rocks, on the southern shore of the Isle of Wight, excites the admiration of every traveller. Those also who visit in autumn the Ballast Hills at St. Anthony's and Wellington Quay, Northum berland, observe with pleasure the effect produced by its hoary seeds, when mantling the huge stones and hedges of its windy domicile. Few, if any, among our native plants, are sufficiently promi nent in their "autumn glory" to exhibit those changing hues, or lights or shadows, which are produced by clouds or sunbeams; such however, is the case with the wild clematis: and we have seen it under different aspects, reflecting the beams of the setting sun as if "tinged with a golden finger," or catching the cloud shadows as they come and go. Often, too, have we lingered with delight, to observe the striking contrast presented by their silver tufts, and the clear blue of an autumnal sky, when partially veiling some high cliff, which rose precipitously from behind the road; or when, having covered the leafless branches of some way-side tree, the undulating clusters were seen waving in the wind. The traveller's-joy has, like all plants, its own brief history inscribed on stems, and leaves, and flowers, that he who passes by may read and KASTNER, the Hanoverian minister, whose take pleasure in the simple record. This, there talents are justly eulogized by the poet Hans fore, is its history; or rather, perhaps, the uses to Anderson, embodied in one of his flower paintings which the different parts may be applied:-The a truly poetic thought. He introduced an arabesque branches are sufficiently tough to make bands for of flowers, as emblematic of the flora of every faggots or hurdles; and the whole plant is well season. It commenced with the crocus and snow-adapted for covering arbours and rock-work in drop, the peeping nanny and pale primrose, suc-pleasure grounds, being of rapid growth and exceeded by summer flowers; then came autumnal tremely hardy. Field-mice avail themselves of ones; and lastly, red berries and yellow-brown the long, feathery down attached to the seeds, to leaves, trophies wherewith December crowns his render their nests both warm and soft, and hence hedges and wild woods. they are often found at the entrance to their holes. We have looked carefully along the banks, and in many a sheltered nook, hopeful to find at least some crane's-bill, or yellow ox-eye-latest children of the year; but vain has been our search. Adopting, therefore, the idea suggested by the imaginative Kästner, we shall speak concerning the berries and brown leaves, and those elegant pensile tufts, which hang like drapery on the autumnal hedges in profuse masses, enlivening the roadsides after flowers have long vanished; and remaining, not In "For oft the little mouse Illudes our hopes, and, safely lodged below, Hath formed his granaries." V France, the twigs are much used to make bes hives and baskets; and those who occupy the selves with observing the wonderful arrangeme and construction of vegetable tubes and air-vesse will do well to submit a branch or leaf of this teresting creeper, to a common magnifying-g Our village boys, however, know nothing of these curious facts; but having found out that air circulates freely through the stems, they cut a long stalk from some dry branch, which they light at one end; this done, they proceed to mimic the doings of grave men, who assemble on the village common beneath some old memorial tree, and, unmoved by poetic association or legendary lore, puff tobacco smoke through their long, unsentimental pipes. Hence the country name of smoke pipe, which is applied to the wild clematis. Young naturalists often amuse themselves with placing a small cutting in some bright coloured liquid, such as an infusion of saffron or cochineal, and observing how gradually the pores become filled. The same effect is shown by the white hyacinth of our woods in spring, but in that case, the transparency of the stem enables the progress of the coloured sap to be distinctly traced. We have spoken in past months of the blackbriony, or lady's seal, Tamus communis, as ornamental to our hedges in May and June-that brilliant creeper, which terminates its long geographic range (from as far south as Algiers) on the north bank of the river Wear, above Sunderland. The bright red berries look beautiful among the leafless branches, and beside them often gleam the equally red berries of the wild vine, Bryonia dioica, of which the root is sometimes formed into the human shape, by means of a mould adapted for the purpose, and sold for the Atropa mandragora of warm climates. Look at the mournful yew (Taxus baccata), springing from out the interstices of some rocky acclivity, grasping the firm soil, and spreading forth its dark branches when all other trees are leafless. Methinks there is much of beauty in that stern evergreen, though poets and moralists speak only of its sable plumes; of cheerfulness, it may be for what can equal in hue or form the bright cornelian berry that grows profusely on even the slenderest twig? Small birds resort in winter to the friendly yew, as to an open banquet: they sing not those sad ditties which embody nought but moody feelings; their grateful songs are rather heard chanting the praises of One on high, who "careth for them," who has set the yew-tree often among wild rocks, and in stony valleys, where even the wild vine and ladies'-seal can hardly find a rooting-place. Why is it that poets will tune their harps to mournful numbers? theirs is a glorious gift, that should gladden the hearts of those who hear them. They are the world's minstrels - their place is to lead the chorus of universal nature, which arises from grove, and field, and glen, and mountain, even when the yellow corn is gathered in, and sapless branches cast their summer suits; when gusty winds wrestle with forest trees; and sunbeams, coming forth as if by chance, shed a wayward light on meads and waters; when, too, the nights grow cold and long, and sleety storms career athwart a wintry sky-there is still much of gladness left, ay, of pleasant sights; why, else, these beauteous berries, that shine along the hedges, not brown, nor grey, but of the brightest tints, that wayfaring birds may readily discern them? ba And low upon the ground grow many simple plants of equal brilliancy, as if to cheer the hearts of those who pass through miry ways. The scarlet cartilaginous helvella (H. cartilaginea) peeps 7 forth from amid tufts of moss, or on old weedy walls and rocks, in company with lichens of all shapes and tints, associated with many a spiritstirring tale of by gone days, and delighting the youthful botanist who climbs fearlessly to some giddy height in order to obtain such a novel prize. In like manner, the scarlet conferva (C. coccinea) equally affects both rocks, and stones, and fuci, within reach of the wild waves' play; and the bright red-cup lichen (L. cocciferus) holds forth its slightly hollowed cups, edged with beautiful scarlet tubercles, on lone heaths, when even the hardy fern looks brown and withered. You may hear the voices of young children calling eagerly to one another, when they first discover the scarlet peziza (P. coccinea), on decayed sticks in woods, and on damp hedge-banks where streams ooze forth; or else its pale orange relative (P. punicea), on old walls, or lichen-dotted branches which the winds of autumn have broken from some near tree. I Listen to what old Gerard wrote, more than three centuries since, concerning the arum, cuckoopint, wake-robin, or lords and ladies (4. maculatum)-for by such dissimilar names is this singular plant designated: and if you have not already sought for it in shady places, ditch-banks, and rough grounds, go forth while yet there is time, and you cannot fail to find the arum, for its scarlet berries embellish many a lone haunt, when flowers are no more, and even its own foliage has long since disappeared. "This plant," said the prince of herbalists, "hath great, large, smoothe, shining, sharp-pointed leaves, spotted here and there with blackish spots, mixed with some blewnesse, among which riseth up a stalke nine inches long, besprinkled with certain purple spots. It beareth also a certaine long hose, or hoode, in proportion like unto the eares of a hare, in the middle of which hoode cometh forth a pestle, or clapper, of a murry, or pale purple colour, which being past, there appeareth in place thereof a bunch or cluster of berries, in manner of a bunch of grapes, greene at the first, but after they be ripe, of a red, like coral, and full of juice; wherein lie hid one or two little hard seeds. This hooded plante do differ according to the varieties of countries, being sharper and more biting in some than others. Travellers relate that in the northern partes, bears, after they have lien in their dens without any manner of sustenance, doe, as soon as they come forth, eat the cuckow-pint." Men in old times were ready to believe whatever travellers were pleased to relate; the fact, however, concerning the shaggy occupants of Scandinavian forests, is by no means improbable. The qualities of the root are both nutritive and farinaceous, and Widelius conjectures that the plant named chara, on which the soldiers of Julius Cæsar made a sort of bread at Dyrrachium, during a scarcity of provisions, was either this species of arum, or one much resembling it. We may, therefore naturally conjecture that the bear, when first awaking, seeks for such roots or vegetables as are best adapted to supply his wants. Thrushes, in like manner, often in winter repair to places where the arum grows, and scratch off the snow, in order to obtain the warm and pungent roots. Is this an act of memory, or of instinct? Does the warbling thrush, when singing to his mate in spring, observe the stemless arum, with its large |